'Tis midnight, when it's eerie, inky black,
And when an owlet hoots, I'm taken aback;
'Tis pretty calming too, music that the night does play,
And yet it chills my blood to hear a lone wolf bay...
To hear the chattering of a thousand bugs,
As alive together in a rhythm,
A melody, written in an unknown hand,
Together as one they hum...
When befalls the witching hour,
And all is calm and serene,
When the stars descend, and fairies meet,
Oh, 'tis such a beautiful scene...
In an urban jungle, of concrete gray,
I live, yet tonight far far away,
I go to the lands of glen and vale,
Where stories of the night do me regale...
With witches, a princess, a midnight jaunt,
And white translucent ghosts so readily haunt;
When imagination takes my hands,
And leads me softly, softly into unknown lands...